Page 30 of A Very Grumpy Marine

“Come on,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “Let’s get you home.”

I turn, intending to head back to tell Lilou goodbye, and that’s when I see her peeking her head out the door and smiling at the two of us. I smile back as I let him lead me to the truck, my heart pounding.

Because I know this moment, this night, changes everything.

TEN

Camden

Lymric groans,shifting beneath the sheets, her head buried under the pillow like she’s trying to block out the entire world.

I smirk from where I’m standing, leaning against the doorway with my arms crossed. She’s a mess—her hair tangled, her makeup smudged, her body curled into a tight ball like she’s trying to disappear.

"Too bright," she mutters, her voice rough and hoarse.

"You’re hungover," I say, stepping into the room with a bottle of water and two aspirin. "That’s what happens when you drink your body weight in tequila."

She groans again, her arm reaching out blindly, fingers wiggling for the bottle.

"You’re not allowed to sound so smug right now," she grumbles, her voice muffled against the pillow.

I chuckle, crouching down beside the bed. "Drink."

She peeks one eye open, wincing like the act of moving even that much is painful, and takes the water and aspirin from myhands. She swallows them down with a wince before flopping back onto the pillow with a dramatic sigh.

"I think I’m dying," she declares.

"You’ll live," I promise, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Though I can’t say you don’t look like you fought in a war last night."

She groans louder, pulling the blanket up over her head. "Why did you come get me?"

I roll my eyes, tugging the blanket back down so I can see her face. "Because you called me."

She blinks up at me, her expression sleepy and unfocused. "I did?"

"You don’t remember?"

She scrunches her nose, obviously sorting through the haze of last night. "I mean… kinda? I remember talking to you. I just don’t rememberwhyI called."

"You called because you needed me."

She exhales slowly, her expression unreadable. But something shifts in her—her body relaxing, the tension easing from her face.

"Thanks," she whispers.

"Anytime."

For a long moment, neither of us speaks. She stares at me, her lips slightly parted, like she wants to say something but isn’t sure how.

Then she swallows, her fingers gripping the edge of the blanket. "Camden, we need to talk."

I knew this was coming.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, we do."

She pushes herself up so she’s sitting against the headboard, pulling the covers tightly around her. "I love you."

The words hit me straight in the chest.

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